Asylumstuck
by Neoette
Summary: They say our past can't determine our future, but was there ever an exception to those with mental illnesses? With 17 patients being admitted into Dymphna Mental Institution being monitored carefully, we watch their experiences as they continue to get better or their conditions worsen. #Humanstuck


"I'm fine, now can I go?" Vriska said forcing herself back in her chair, trying to appear comfortable. Her body language was the most important thing right now, and maybe pretending to look fine would get her out of here quicker.

"They told me you talk to spiders." The therapist said gently as if not to hurt her feelings.

He thinks I'm a child. I'm not a child. The words brushed passed her gritted teeth, "Yes."

"Why?" He leaned forward trying to study her more closely.

She was silent, she didn't need to answer to him. Instead, she looked around the room.

A white vase with a single blue flower hanging out the top. The curtains were a light shade of gray and the shelves were crammed with books on Psychology and Psychoanalysis. She then looked to the pictures on the wall. Inkblots. Those pictures looked different according to the most important thing on people's minds. He noticed this and followed her gaze leading to the first inkblot on the wall. He instantly became curious as to what she saw.

"What do you see?" He asked inquisitively.

She paused a moment before speaking, "I see a spider." She lied.

He was surprised that she actually spoke, but now was wondering

what else she saw, "What else?"

"I see the spider making a web." She added to the lie to make it more interesting, what she actually saw was man.

He tried to see it, but he couldn't. "Why a spider?"

"What point does this prove?" She crossed her arms, now slightly annoyed.

"I was just curious." He said genuinely, now making eye contact with her.

"Are we done here?" She said avoiding his gaze.

"No. We have one more thing to talk about." He put his hands together, now sitting on the edge of his seat.

"Why did you kill your mother?"

She didn't answer, they were just going to lock her up regardless of what she said. All the evidence pointed to her, the bloody fingerprints, the knife with her DNA on it, her missing left arm found at the crime scene.

"She is crazy, she was going to kill everyone! Look at my arm! Tell me that woman isn't insane! She deserved to die." She exhaled sharply now looking him straight in the eye.

He glanced down at her arm to see that it was missing. He noticed this when she walked in, but didn't say anything.

"So she did this to you? Your own mother, cut off your arm?" He sounded as though he doubted that actually happened.

"Yes! Why is that so hard to believe? You know what? I bet you're just another child molester who says they can help me. I'm going, you can leave me alone." With that, she got up and started walking out.

He watched her get up and walk to the door, speaking as her hand made contact with the doorknob. "You know, if you leave, you'll be locked up in Mental hospital. It seems your conditions are far too severe to entrust you with the pleasure of living on your own."

She scoffed and turned to look at him, "As if. MY conditions are perfectly fine, I can live on my own if I want to."

"Not legally."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because you'll be put in prison for life for the murder of your mother. There is no evidence proving justifiable homicide, and just because your arm was lost does not make your mother the guilty party."

"Fuck you," she said under her breath. She turned around and opened the door, making her exit.

She headed down the hall to the main entrance and was greeted by a lady at the door. She wore a colorful smile and her appearance was quite exquisite and for someone living around here. A black dress with a green silver lining. Her hair was gray from aging, and possibly stress, though she still looked young. Maybe early 30s'? She didn't know, nor did she care. That woman was blocking her exit and if needed she would use force.

The lady spoke softly, "Vriska Serket?"

Vriska was taken by surprise, how did this woman know her name?

"How did you know my name?"

The lady chuckled, "I'm Ms. Paint, head of the Dymphna Mental Hospital. I'm to this help."

Vriska didn't have time for this, she starting looking for a way out.

Ms. Paint noticed this, and frowned, "I'm afraid you can't leave, I was told that your condition was pretty bad and I figured that you'd leave in the middle of your therapeutic session. I think you should come with me, maybe we can discuss things in a place that isn't so… official."

Vriska looked sideways at Ms. Paint. Was she serious? And if so, where was she taking her? Ms. Paint took it that this wasn't going to be an easy convincing, so she starting walking away, knowing that was the motive needed to bring her to follow. As expected, Vriska caught up with her and began to speak, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Ms. Paint looked over at her, "I just wanted to have a chat with you, let you check out the place you'll be staying at for the next few years."

Vriska stopped and stared at her like she was insane. "I'm not going there, I'm fine."

"If you were fine, I wouldn't be here right now. Let me help."

"Are you sure I'm the one who needs help? You seem to be the crazier one out of us. That is of course, if you think I'm going to that mad house of yours."

Ms. Paint couldn't help but chuckle.

"They warned me about you."

Vriska couldn't help but be curious, "Who warned you about me?"

"Someone, you might find out if you walk with me."

She sighed, "Fine."

Ms. Paint smiled and began walking again, Vriska walked alongside her.

After walking for a while they arrived at coffee shop. Vriska ordered a hot chocolate and Ms. Paint ordered black coffee and a cinnamon roll. They took their seat by a nearby table outside. Vriska sipped her hot chocolate without letting it cool, her tongue was blistering slightly, but that was the least of her worries.

"So, what did you want to know?" Vriska said sternly.

"I see you are not one for wasting time." Ms. Paint said taking a sip.

"No, not really." She took another sip.

"Well then, I might as well make this quick," she said placing her cup on the table, "I just am curious as to your outlook on this whole situation. It seems no one is letting you talk, just accusing you, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Then that means you most likely have a lot to say on this matter."

"Maybe."

"Well if that maybe becomes a yes, we can wrap this conversation up."

Vriska smiled, admiring how Ms. Paint managed to actually make her want to talk.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Just tell me what happened that night."

Vriska took another sip before speaking, "If you actually want to know, I'll tell you." Veronica sighed, "Okay it was late that evening… I was just sitting up in my room when I heard a scream. I ran downstairs and saw that a man had walked in holding an axe, hovering over my dead mother's body. I screamed as loud as I could, and he managed to see me. He then threw the axe and I moved out the way, but it hit my arm, knocking it off in one hit. I then took the axe, blood splattering everywhere, and held it up with my other hand. He got frightened and ran, leaving my dead mother and I alone."

Ms. Paint watched her eyes as she spoke and chuckled, "I see you're quite skilled at lying, too bad I can see right through you."

Vriska crossed her arms, "I thought you were going to let me tell my part of the story."

"Well of course, I have no problem with you telling your half of the story, but when you're lying, that's a different case."

Vriska scoffed, "Who said I was lying?"

"You didn't have to say it, I can tell when someone's lying just by the look in their eyes. You have such beautiful baby blue eyes, it's a shame that they don't know where to glance at when telling the "truth".

Vriska took a sip of her hot chocolate again, "Okay fine, that wasn't the truth, but this is for sure." She decided to try and lie her way out of it again.

Ms. Paint stopped her right there. "Vriska, I've dealt with people like you before."

Vriska crossed her arms, "Meaning?"

"I know that you have a tendency to lie like it's your first nature. You avoid situations in which you have to tell the truth. Tell me, did you kill your mother?"

Vriska was silent, "And if I did?"

"It depends. If you admit to it, your crime would be considered involuntarily committed due to mental illness. If you refuse to admit it, you will go to jail for second degree murder."

Vriska paused and looked around before making eye contact again.

"Let's just go… "


End file.
